Burned

Ingvild has picked up another rock, she is foaming at the mouth and her eyes shine with hatred. Henning doesn’t know how to stop her; she waves her mobile maniacally, pointing it at him. Should I call for help, he thinks? No use, they won’t get here in time. The rocks are so heavy that a single, well-aimed throw could be the end of Yngve. Henning tries to think of something clever to say, but he can’t find the words, he finds nothing, so he shuffles his feet on the damp grass. Then he sees Ingvild raise the rock above her head and aim.

‘It’s because you fucked her, you bastard. I know I haven’t been a wife to you for a long time, I have been a zombie ever since I was raped, but you should have helped me, you should have helped me, you shit, you shouldn’t have raped my soul, and worst of all, worst of all, you shouldn’t have driven our son insane. I know, I know how he felt when he stood here, like me, holding the stone over his head, when he aimed it at that whore who ruined everything.’

‘But I never slept with Henriette.’ Yngve yelps and squeezes his eyes shut. Henning raises his arms in an impotent effort to defend himself against her, even though she is standing several metres away from him and he, too, shuts his eyes, and waits for the thud and the scream.

It never comes.

He opens his eyes again. Ingvild is still holding the stone above her head. She is gasping for air.

‘I swear I never slept with Henriette.’

Yngve’s voice is pitiful, on the brink of tears. Then Henning hears movement behind him.

‘No. But you did sleep with me.’

Henning spins around. And, for the second time in less than an hour, he is looking straight into the eyes of Anette Skoppum.

Chapter 65

If there is a God, then he has just pressed the pause button. Henning’s jaw drops. Anette enters and looks at them all in turn.

‘Sorry, Juul,’ she says. ‘My curiosity got the better of me.’

He looks at her without blinking.

‘W-who are you?’ Ingvild says.

‘I’m the woman your husband had sex with.’

She says it straight out, no embarrassment, no anger, presents it as a purely factual matter. And Henning knows he isn’t the only one who is dumbstruck.

‘But — ’ Ingvild’s voice is devoid of strength.

‘I can see why Stefan thought it was Henriette. I mean, look at me, I’m not a patch on her. Her script, too, made it obvious, I would have thought.’

Anette looks at Yngve. He stares at the ground, shamefaced. A tear rolls down his cheek. His hair, what little he has, is bathed in sweat.

‘And Henriette was a huge flirt, everyone knew that. She could charm the birds off the trees, if she put her mind to it.’

They all look at Yngve, who sighs and shakes his head.

‘It wasn’t very easy, for any of us, in the time after… after what happened to Ingvild. It hadn’t been that good before, and afterwards, well, it was completely impossible to live together as man and wife. Every time I came near you, you would move away, you almost shuddered when I, your husband, came near you.’

Yngve looks at her.

‘Physical contact was an unknown concept. And then I met Henriette

…’

He shakes his head again.

‘She was beautiful, full of life, clever, and yes, she flirted and I won’t deny that she stirred feelings in me, which I thought were long dead. But I didn’t want to destroy the trust between us. After all, I was her tutor, her supervisor, and I couldn’t — ’

Foldvik looks at them in turn. His eyes stop at Anette. Henning can see that Foldvik is consumed by remorse.

Anette takes another step inside. She, too, is soaked to the skin. Henning wonders what made her come back. He can understand her being curious, but why drop such a bombshell?

Of course. To put things into perspective. If Ingvild had killed her husband for having had an affair with Henriette, the truth — when it came out later — would have destroyed Ingvild completely. How can you live with the knowledge that your own son killed the wrong woman and you killed your husband because he recklessly drove your son mad?

Ingvild looks like she has a puncture. Her shoulders sag, her back is hunched, her eyes are swollen. Henning looks at Anette. She is much smarter than he had assumed.

‘I’m sorry, Ingvild,’ Anette continues. ‘I never meant for this to happen. It just did. I had been working on an idea for a long time, I had written quite a good storyline, too, which I wanted Yngve to take a look at. I knew that he had helped Henriette secure an option with Spot the Difference Productions, and thought he might be able to help me as well. Alcohol was involved, I won’t deny it, but we chatted in his office, and — ’

‘Anette, don’t — ’

Yngve closes his eyes. Anette holds up her hands.

‘No, I won’t go on. I just want to apologise. For the harm I’ve caused you. If I had known what it would lead to, then — ’